Hogarth Hughes: Hey, I thought you were in trouble. I had this weird guy following me around, it took me hours to shake him, I kill myself getting out here, and you have him doing... arts and crafts.
Dean McCoppin: You have a problem with arts and crafts, little man?
Hogarth Hughes: He's a giant robot. It's a little undignified.
Dean McCoppin: It is? Well then, smart guy, what would you have him do?
Dean McCoppin: Sorry about the crowbar, kid. You'd be surprised how many people want to steal scrap. But, man, once I make it into art, I can't give it away. I mean, what am I? A junkman who makes art or an artist who sells junk? You tell me.
Kent Mansley: Two nights ago, at approximateley 1900 hours, S.A.T com radar detected an unidentified flying object entering Earth's atmosphere, losing contact with it two-and-a-half miles off the coast of Rockwell. Some assumed it was a large meteor, or a downed satelite, but my office in Washington received a call from someone reporting an actual encounter with the object. This is no meteor, gentlemen. This is something much more serious.
Marv Loach: What department is that again?
Kent Mansley: Frankly, I'm not at liberty to divulge the particulars of the agency I work for, and all that that implies.
Marv Loach: You mean, national security?
Kent Mansley: Let me put it this way. Every so often things happen that can't be rationalized in a conventional way. People wanna know their government has a response. I am that response.
Dean McCoppin: Look, it's none of my business, but who cares what these creeps think of you? They don't make you what you are, you do. You are who you choose to be.